


Breached

by BronzeDragon13



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Home Invasion, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:08:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23971354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BronzeDragon13/pseuds/BronzeDragon13
Summary: Working as a police officer always had risks. Carlos never thought that those risks would follow him home or that his life and career would be upended after.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Grace Ryder/Judd Ryder (9-1-1 Lone Star), Michelle Blake/Owen Strand
Comments: 107
Kudos: 392





	1. Chapter 1

As a cop, Carlos knew he worked a dangerous job, and coming home at the end of each shift was never guaranteed. When he told his family that he had signed up for the police academy, something that had been on his mind since he was fifteen years old, it had been met with mixed feelings. His mother was proud of him for wanting to go into a career that served and protected others, but she was fearful of what the job entailed and how it may one day claim her only son. His sisters had expressed the same sentiments, leaving Carlos feeling like he was picking the wrong path, and it was an agonizing two weeks before he finally decided to go through with it.

Now, working on the force with his fellow officers, Carlos knew he had made the right choice. He loved his job, was very good at it, and couldn’t see what else he would do if he ever had to leave the police force. The case they had been working on was darker than any one Carlos had seen in a while. A group of gang members, new to the Austin area, targeting individuals who either had connections to the case or were police officers that arrested members. Sometimes the attacks were on the streets, the victims usually being dragged to a darkened area or abandoned lot, or individual's were invaded within their homes.

Carlos was one of the new ones brought in halfway through the case, as the senior police officer heading the investigation noticed a need for more manpower, and since then it felt like Carlos barely slept. Between long hours at the station, and the short stretches of sleep spent at his apartment, Carlos barely saw any of his friends. Michelle texted him frequently, describing some of the more humorous calls she had attended to, clearly missing seeing his face on different scenes.

TK was worse, checking in after each shift, and the few times he came over, Carlos was either already passed out or too exhausted to do much more than lay down and cuddle. TK never held it against him, understanding that their jobs demanded a lot of their energy and time, often trying to find different things that would make it easier for Carlos. Things like making his coffee and lunch for him so Carlos could catch a few more minutes of sleep. Telling Carlos to go shower while TK finished putting the laundry in the washing machine. Not minding that they ended up cuddling on the couch for the fifth night instead of going out dancing with Paul.

“I wish they wouldn’t work you so hard.” TK said one night.

“It’s not so bad.” Carlos had been pushing his meal around his plate more than he’d actually eaten it. Food just didn't seem appealing right now. Anything other than sleep didn't sound appealing.

“Carlos, you barely ate anything. You’re spacing out and, full offense, I’ve seen corpses with more color in their face then you right now.” TK doesn’t mean for the words to be hurtful, would never want to hurt Carlos like that, but his boyfriend was currently sitting in front of him half asleep, as he had been for the past month.

“I’m sorry, Tyler.” Carlos drops his fork and brings his hands up to rub at his face. His eyes sting, not from tears, but from the long hours spent at his computer, staring at the screen. “This case is just taking longer than we thought.”

“Are you sure you can’t tell me about it?” TK knew that Carlos didn't talk about his cases, sometimes he would if they worked the same scene, though not always. Carlos didn't like to bring work home with him, something TK was working on, and TK knew that Carlos saw some horrific things while on the streets.

“It’s not a pretty case, I’ll give you that much.” Carlos looked up, noticed the pinched expression on his boyfriend’s face, and wilted. “TK, I’m going to be fine. This case it just draining.”

There were pictures that would be burned into his memory for years and testimonies he could now recite in his sleep by rote.

“I just worry, you know. You’re always so calm about work, seeing you like this is weird, it feels wrong.” TK admitted.

Carlos had been hustled over to the shower shortly after that, TK insisting he could handle the dishes, and then the two of them were curled up on Carlos’s bed. TK was gone when Carlos’s alarm went off, already at the fire station for his shift, and Carlos made his way back to the police office. Another week of this had Owen sending over a basket with TK, nearly overflowing with self-care items, with instructions to use the products. Carlos could only blink at it, wondering what he was supposed to do with dried rose petals, and told TK to pass along his thanks for the gift.

Work got more intense. The gang members were getting bolder. Soon, Carlos was getting instructions on how to make sure his home was safe, refreshed on what to do if he thought he was being followed, and told to inform his friends and family to stay alert. Carlos passed along the information to TK, gently asking him if he would be alright staying with Owen for the week, as an extra safety measure. TK wasn’t happy with that. Which led to Carlos caving in, expressing his concern and fear that something might happen to TK, and mentioned that he had already seen two of his fellow officers injured by these gang members.

Finally, after nearly an entire night spent talking, sometimes arguing, and then with Carlos borderline begging, TK relented and agreed to halt coming over during the night. Had Carlos known what was coming, had known that he had taken TK out of the crossfire, he still would have made the same choice. TK went over to Owen’s, who welcomed his son with open arms, and gave Carlos a hug when he saw him next.

“Are you sure you’re doing alright?” Owen had never seen the cop so exhausted. “TK told me about the warnings the police officers were getting.”

“I’m alright.” Carlos attempted to reassure him. It was becoming his new catch-phrase these days. The station was quiet, thankfully, most of the crew inside completing various jobs required for their work. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, Captain Strand, I just feel better knowing that TK is somewhere safe.”

“He would feel better if you were safe, too. All of us would feel better, Carlos.” Owen had this earnest look about him, as if he could just stare down whatever trouble Carlos was facing, and make it go away.

“It’ll be over soon.” They were getting closer and closer to closing the case. It wouldn't be easy, many already accepting that they would probably have one more shootout before it was done, something that Carlos wasn’t thrilled about. “I just came by the drop off TK’s jacket. I know he lost the other one.”

“I’m not surprised. I always had to keep doubles of everything when he was kid.” Owen shared. Carlos smiled, warmed by any knowledge of his boyfriend, and left shortly after that, already on route back to the station.

Carlos finished his shift, said goodbye to his co-workers, and headed home. He made himself dinner, nothing complicated, and ended up on the phone with TK, talking about his day and the crazy calls they dealt with. A little past ten o’clock, Carlos said good night, promising to text TK in the morning. He double checked the locks on the door, made sure the alarm system was on, and headed off to bed. Sleep took him instantly.

Which was why when Carlos woke up out of a sound sleep, he knew something was wrong.

Carlos lay still in the bed, ears straining to hear anything that didn’t belong, eyes scanning the room. His heart leapt a bit when he heard footsteps coming down the hall. They got closer and closer, then stopped, just outside of Carlos’s door. He was regretting closing his bedroom door now, hating the lack of sight, and Carlos looked over to the bedside table where his gun was. Could he get to his gun, quietly and quickly, before the door opened? He never got a chance to find out.

The door cracked open, something was dropped in, and before Carlos could react, the smoke bomb went off. Eyes watering, and coughing, Carlos attempted to get out of bed, only to be tangled in his sheets. Feet stamped into the room, hands grabbing him, and something hard struck his head. Carlos thought he must have blacked out, coming to in the living room, hands and feet bound, mouth gagged. His head was pounding and as he blinked the room came into focus.

There were three men in the room with him, eyes watching him with cold stares, and one stepped forward and bent down so he was meeting Carlos’s gaze.

“I really wish you hadn’t worked this case, Officer Reyes. Would have made my job a lot easier.” The guy reached back, pulled out a knife, and tapped the blunt edge along his cheek. “I know you aren’t going to enjoy this, but I will, and so will my friends.”

The second man moved, going behind him, and before Carlos could react his shirt was being ripped, the shreds of it being thrown off to the side. Hands slipped up to his neck, squeezing briefly in an unspoken warning, before twisting one hand into his hair.

“He’s pretty. Shame we have to fuck this face up.”

“Stop dragging it out. We have a job.”

Carlos tried to fight back, attempting to get his hands out of the binds, and successfully managed to headbutt the man behind him. He didn’t make it far, considering he had to crawl, before being dragged back. They tossed him onto his back, arms protesting painfully at the position, and the same man that had first approached him straddled his waist. The added weight wretched his arms, past the point of pain, and Carlos couldn't move to alleviate the pressure.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Carlos’s brain, finally clearing since this all started, registered that the person before him was one of the gang members. He recognized the tattoo on the man's neck. “It’s alright, though, I’ll make sure you don’t do it again.”

“Twenty minutes, man, get a move on.” The third man, speaking for the first time, called out. He walked over, securing Carlos’s legs as he continued to struggle, while the last guy crouched down by his head. There were hands fisting his hair, nails bluntly scratching Carlos’s scalp, before lifting and smashing the back of his head into the floor.

“Twenty minutes.” He stared down at Carlos, leaning closer, and Carlos felt his stomach drop. “I can make this work with twenty minutes. Took me less than that to finish with your buddy. What was his name again? Officer Maddick?” He leaned in, showing off a predatory grin that was all teeth. “Let’s have some fun, Officer Reyes.”


	2. Chapter 2

Once, Carlos had tried to help his uncle with building a new chicken coop. He had insisted that he could handle putting together the boards that formed the roof together on his own. But he missed the placement of the hammer, placing the tool on the side of the nail, sending it onto his thumb. For an eight-year-old, the pain was excruciating. Carlos had sobbed, dropping the hammer, and his thumb had been black and blue for the next week before it started to feel better.

Carlos thought he knew pain.

He had gotten hurt before, had been shot at, nearly run over, and had made his way through two separate concussions. The pain he was feeling now compared to nothing that he had ever experienced before. The men had been methodical in their torture, because there was no other word for it, not when each cut and thrust they made into his flesh was strategic and detached. Carlos had been left on the floor, in a crumpled heap with pooling blood under him and still constrained to limit his movement, watching the men leave.

He noticed that there was lint under his couch. Carlos wasn’t sure how long he had been on the floor. Everything hurt, there was nothing distinguishable for him to focus on, leaving Carlos thinking in a loop, begging for the pain to stop. The men were gone. Long gone, now, having completed whatever goal they had set out to accomplish in his home. They probably figured that Carlos would be dead before help could arrive. Which it hadn’t, because Carlos couldn’t dial for help, and he couldn’t even scream to alert his neighbors because his mouth was blocked.

His cell phone should still be in his bedroom. With his hands and feet still bound, Carlos resorted to inching along the hardwood; there were trails of blood on the floor, making the wood seem darker than it was, and Carlos idly wondered how he was going to get those stains out. The rug was a lost cause and Carlos could almost detach himself when he looked at the stain. It wasn’t blood, just spilled red wine, or maybe some cooking sauce. They had secured the gag with duct tape after the second time he was able to get it out of his mouth, preventing any sounds or noises from getting out, and now it hindered his oxygen intake.

Carlos ran out of energy before he made it to the hall. His chest was heaving at this point, blood sluggishly draining out and under him, and Carlos tried to remember how many times the knife had pierced his skin. A dozen times? More than that or less than? They had carved something into his thigh, Carlos could recall feeling it, fighting to get away with every stinging bite of the knife as it cut into his skin and muscle. Right now, Carlos was too scared to look and confirm what it was, that it had happened, that it was etched onto his body forever.

Lifting his head, Carlos could see down the hallway, panicking as he registered how much farther he had to go. It seemed like it would take years to get to his bedroom at the end of the hall. Trying to plant his feet, Carlos attempted to push himself along, not getting farther than a few inches before stopping again. He felt lightheaded, vaguely thinking that he was losing blood too much blood, and then suddenly the coppery smell was everywhere.

Carlos heard a thumping noise, like someone was running down the hall, and a flash of ice-cold fear went down his spine. If the men came back, Carlos was dead, he wouldn’t be able to fight them off. Attempting one last chance to get to the bedroom, Carlos tried to move forward, only to end up flipped onto his back from his side, sending sharp bursts of pain down his arms. He didn’t want to die like this. Home was supposed to be safe, a refuge from his job, this was never supposed to happen.

Carlos wasn’t sure how he hadn’t passed out yet, surprised that his body wasn’t giving up, and Carlos couldn’t help but notice that each blink of his eyes was getting harder and harder. One moment Carlos was up at his ceiling, the next there was frantic talking around him, causing him to flinch. Going from having no noise to sounds everywhere terrified him.

“Carlos!”

“Oh, my god. There’s so much blood…” Someone gasped. “Shit, I need another set of hands over here, I need to find where it’s all coming from.”

“Paul, help me roll him to his side, we have to get the pressure off his arms.”

“TK, watch his neck.”

Carlos could register that there were faces around him, but the images were blurry, and in some cases, indistinguishable. Being back on his side was easier, allowing for him to try to get a full breath in with the gag and stuffed nose, even if it made the pain in his torso worse.

“Carlos, hey, come on ‘Los. Eyes on me, little more, there we go.” Carlos wasn’t aware that he had closed them in the first place. There were blobs of brown and blue and black in front of him. Carlos could feel hands on his body, first on his face to remove the gag, and then on the bindings for his arms and legs.

“Watch his right arm. The fuckers dislocated it.”

“I need more gauze over here.”

A hand brushed against his abdomen and Carlos panicked. It was too close, far too close to where they had cut him, and he tried to get away. His knee came up, muscle memory taking over to place a kick, and soon there was pressure on his legs, and a chorus of voices attempting to sooth him.

“Sh, sh, it’s okay, Carlos, you’re okay. Michelle is trying to help you, that’s all, we’re all trying to help.” He knew that voice. He just couldn’t put a name to it. Blue eyes, the only thing that was clear at the moment, looked down on him, gloved fingers reached out to cup his face. That was all it took and Carlos broke. He wasn’t sure if there was enough liquid left in him to cry, but now that he had started, he couldn’t stop.

“We’ve got you, Carlos, it’s going to be alright.”

TK.

TK had blue eyes. He moved, maybe to talk to someone, Carlos wasn’t sure, and Carlos tried to follow. He tried to open his mouth to call him back, or thrust his hands out to grab him, and failed. His arms didn’t listen to his commands, remaining limp at his sides, and Carlos whimpered as more pressure was applied to his stomach.

“We need to get him on the backboard.”

“Watch that arm, it’s wrenched it clean out of the socket, and I don’t like how it’s hanging.”

“I’m just putting the neck brace on you, Carlos, that’s all.”

Carlos could feel himself getting cold. He shivered, eyes threatening to close again, and Carlos jumped when something was placed on his face. Oxygen mask, his brain supplied after a moment, and Carlos shuddered when the straps aggravated the wounds on his face. Glancing around, Carlos was surprised to see the inside of an ambulance, even if he came to that conclusion from brief seconds of clarity in his vision. When had that happened? TK was next to him, mouth moving, not that Carlos could understand him when it sounded like he was underwater. He coughed, tasting blood in his mouth, some of which showed up on the inside of the oxygen mask.

“Radio ahead, tell them we have a 26-year-old male, suffering multiple stab wounds to the chest, abdomen, and legs.” Pressure was applied to his stomach again causing Carlos to try and twist away to avoid the pain. “I think they nicked his lung.”

That would explain why it was getting harder and harder to breathe. Had it always been that difficult? Carlos could feel himself drifting, getting colder and shivering, and his eyes closed again. It felt nice, to rest for a little while, and Carlos could have gone to sleep if he wasn’t suddenly startled awake.

“You keep your eyes open, Reyes, I am not losing you in the back of my ambulance.” The clanking of the ambulance doors opening signaled to him that the ride was over. Soon, more people were around him, none of them talking to him, not that Carlos would have been able to converse. Carlos groaned as bright light flooded his vision, and that groan turned into a full-on wail as he was moved, trembling as the coldness from the solid surface he was placed on penetrated his skin.

“I need more light over here.”

“Once we got those IV’s started the OR is ready to take him.”

“I’m counting 17 stab wounds; can I get a double check and confirmation on that?”

Carlos felt someone touch his inner thigh, where he had been cut the worse, and he tried to kick out once again. Someone was trying to calm him down, assuring him that he was safe, and Carlos wanted to scream back that he didn’t feel safe. He was in pain, was terrified, and did not want to be here. He was supposed to be home. Sleeping in his bed. All the alarms and locks had been set, Carlos was supposed to be safe, home was supposed to be a safe place. If he wasn’t safe there, then where would he be?

His vision started to black out, chest tightening, and Carlos couldn’t stop the way his body seized. The pain was so much worse like this; almost as if each fiber of his being was a live wire, incapable of handling the electricity coursing down, and Carlos wondered if this was how he was going to die. It felt like the pain lasted forever. Just as soon as Carlos accepted that this was going to be all he knew, the pain vanished, leaving him crying again. He had never cried this much before, familiar with keeping his emotions in check for the most part, but this was different.

“We’re going to put you under now, Officer Reyes, when you wake up, you’ll feel much better.” Another mask was placed over his face. When had they taken off the other one? It smelled weird, almost worse than the coppery smell of blood, and Carlos was instantly sleepy. His eyes drooped, closing, and Carlos welcomed the blackness. It meant no pain. After the endless minutes of being trapped in a never-ending cycle of it, Carlos was glad for it.

“Keep the morphine drip going for now.” A voice cut through the inky darkness that Carlos was submerged in. “His vitals look good, we should be able to start weaning back the oxygen requirements soon, what was his last hemoglobin count?”

“Still low. There are orders placed for another transfusion. Considering he lost almost half of his blood supply prior to getting here, and during surgery, I’m not surprised. The rest of his labs came back strong.”

“Good. I’m going to go back and inform the family. Page me if anything changes.” Carlos tried to move, feeling heavy, and didn’t succeed. He was warm now, resting on something soft, and his mouth felt weird.

“Hey, Carlos.” A soft hand gently cupped his cheek, or what he thought was his cheek, Carlos wasn’t quite sure. “You’re looking a little better than the last time I saw you. I got in touch with your family. Your mom is on her way, she’ll be here soon, it’ll be nice to have another familiar face to see when you wake up.” Carlos heard a sniffling noise, following by another touch farther down from where the hand was resting against his face.

“You need to wake up, Carlos, you made it through everything so far. You can’t leave me like this, okay? We’re a team, remember? Don’t let me find out what it’s like to go solo.”

Carlos wished he could respond and was helpless as he was taken back under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 48 in quarantine, how is everyone holding up, maybe getting some nicer weather to enjoy at home? Thank you guys so much for the feedback from the last chapter! Leave a comment if you wish :)


	3. Chapter 3

TK hated hospitals. It was a combination of the smells of the place, the way there seemed to be too much noise and at times none at all, and how everyone, staff and residents alike, looked seconds away from crying. TK certainly felt like crying right now. Carlos’s mother had arrived in the early hours of the morning and TK had gently brought her up to speed before showing her to Carlo’s room. Deciding to give her some privacy, TK stepped out, but not before pressing a kiss to Carlos’s forehead, and telling him that he would be back soon.

However, the moment he left the room, and took five steps from the doorway, TK couldn’t bear the thought of going any farther. What if Carlos woke up? What if he woke up alone, in pain, scared? The exhaustion of the previous day was wearing him down. It was pushing 48-hours since everything happened. Carlos’s apartment was a crime scene, CSI swarming in and out of the place, with no new information coming out. The worst part of all of this was that it was planned. Orchestrated. Carlos wasn’t the only one attacked that night, just the most severe in terms of injuries, along with one death.

Four different officers ambushed in their houses, two of them having families present with them at the time, and everything inside TK burned to go out and hunt the bastards down. The worst part was that the assaliants had called 911 from a burner phone before disappearing. It was Judd who told him not to go looking for trouble, that the police were doing their best, and with blood of their fellow cop friends spilled, these guys wouldn’t get away with it.

“Carlos needs you here, TK.” Judd had been firm, eyes unwavering from TK’s red ones, and all he could do was nod.

So, here he was, waiting for something to happen.

The doctors were optimistic that Carlos would make a full recovery in time. Sadly, TK couldn’t find the relief he was suppose to have following those words. The details of Carlos's injuries were seared into his brain and TK could recall them, going over them again and again, well aware of the statistics that accompanied those resulting damages.

17 stab wounds to Carlos’s chest, abdomen, and legs. One of them severe enough to puncture his lung, essentially having him drown in his own blood, requiring emergency surgery. There was a hairline fracture to his skull. Dislocated shoulder. Endless bruises. Carlos needed close to a hundred stitches to bring the stab wounds back together. Those injuries,while vicious and often sitting like a stone in his stomach, weren’t the ones that TK was overly worried about once Carlos finally came around. No, he was still terrified of those, and for the long road ahead of his partner, but there was one wound that TK knew wouldn’t go away.

TK had already seen it during a dressing change; the red, angry words carved into the skin of Carlos’s leg. It was too deep to think, or hope, that it wouldn’t scar.

“You look like you could use this.” Marjan’s voice had him jumping, unaware that he had been staring into the tiled floor, and he reached out to take the large coffee cup she offered him.

“Thanks. I meant to get something earlier, but Carlos’s mom just got here, and I didn’t want to go leave her.” TK didn’t want to leave Carlos either, not liking his boyfriend being left alone for any length of time, but he couldn’t refuse Carlos’s mom from seeing him.

“How’s he doing?” Marjan asked. That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? No one really knew yet. Carlos was still sedated, probably for the rest of today and tomorrow, unconscious to the world around him.

“He’s stable. They’re decreasing the oxygen intake, so now he’s on just the nasal cannula, and his last scans looked good.” TK felt a sense of control come from detailing the injuries in such a clinical way. It might have seemed detached to an outsider. Marjan wasn’t an outsider, though, she was a close friend, one that knew the facts were facts just as well as TK.

“That’s good. See, he’ll be awake and back to kicking ass in no time.” Marjan said, tapping his hand to remind TK to take another sip, doing the same with her own beverage.

“You aren’t on shift?”

“I don’t start for another couple hours. Figured someone should come check on you since everyone else is working.” Marjan looked away. “Michelle will be by after she’s done, I know she tried to swap with another paramedic to come sooner, it just didn’t work out.”

Michelle had been focused and stern that night, barking out orders and completing tasks with a scary efficiently that no one questioned. TK wondered where the line of shock came down for them; was it the level of brutality of the attack or just who had suffered it?

“TK?” His head snapped around, spotting Ms. Reyes standing in the doorway, and he quickly walked over, Marjan on his heels.

“Is everything alright? I didn’t hear any alarms,” TK blurted out, eyes zeroing in on the figure on the bed, and he relaxed when he saw that everything was just as he left it.

“We’re alright, mijo. I’m just wanted to let you know that I am going to go call his sisters and then check into the hotel.” She gave him a sad smile and lifted a hand to cup his cheek. “You promise me that you’ll get some rest, si?”

“I’ll do my best.” It was the most honest response he could give her. “Do you need a ride to the hotel?”

“I ordered a cab. I’ll call you when I get there.” Ms. Reyes noticed Marjan and held her hand out, briefly squeezing it, before letting go. “Keep an eye on this one, chica, he’ll run himself into the ground if we aren’t careful.” Marjan chuckled, a welcomed sound in a place where everything boiled down to the constant hum and beeps of machines, and nodded.

“I’m well aware of TK’s tendencies. He’ll get some sleep and food in his belly by the next time you see him.” Marjan offered to walk Ms. Reyes down to the lobby and wait with her for the cab. She promised to come back up and sit with TK for a little longer before leaving for her shift. TK stepped back into the room, pulling up the empty seat on the side of the bed and grabbed Carlos’s hand.

“Seems like you had a good visit with your mom.” TK started. “Marjan is here, too, she’ll poke her head in to say hi in a little bit. Pretty sure the entire crew is going to stop by and check in on you.”

Several fellow cops had already stopped in, none that TK knew well sadly. There was also talk of setting up a police guard, to combat that potential for a secondary attack, as the gang members hadn't been located yet. The problem was the police force was already stretched thin and all options were being looked at. His thumb rubbed across Carlos’s knuckles, mindful of the IV in place, and he frowned at the extensive bruising. Carlos’s wrists were swollen, due to the prolong binding and Carlos’s attempts to get them off, and x-rays had proven that nothing was broken.

“Dad’s already clearing out the guest room at our place for you. I might have to fight Michelle, though, she’s been blowing up my phone every chance she gets.” TK tried to keep it light, in an effort to keep from crying, which didn’t seem to work when his throat went tight again. “I really hope you can hear me, Carlos, just to know that I’m not going anywhere.”

Was this how Carlos felt after he got shot? Waiting and wondering for hours and hours if the person in the bed was going to be okay?

At a loss for anything else to say that wouldn’t send him to tears TK tried to fix the blanket. It wasn’t easy, especially with one hand, since he refused to let go of Carlos. Skin to skin contact was supposed to be beneficial, right? Or was that only for babies and not people kept unconscious by medication?

“Here, let me help.” Marjan said as she walked into the room. Knocking TK’s hand away, she quickly straightened out the blankets, smoothing them down, mindful of Carlos’s wires and lines. “He’s got some color back to his face.”

“They gave him two transfusions.” TK recited. “He lost more than half of his blood volume. Everyone was shocked when we told them that he was still somewhat conscious in the house and ambulance.”

“Your boy’s a fighter, TK.” Marjan let her eyes wander over the medical equipment, reading the numbers on the O2 machine, before resting her hand on Carlos’s forearm. “Paul is going to grab a bag of clothes and stuff from his place so he has something to change into when he wakes up.”

“They’re done with looking over his place?”

“Done searching for evidence. The cleaners should be finished by the end of the week.”

“He’s not going back there.” TK wasn’t sure how it was going to work out, especially when it came to work and the long shifts, but he would figure something out. “The place is trashed, Marjan, I’m not sure how much the cleaners can do.”

The floor was a lost cause, TK vividly picturing the streaks of red on the wood, all leading to the crumpled figure on the ground. Parts of the walls were splattered, furniture stained red, and countless items smashed or missing. It was an unsettling, harsh contrast to the normally immaculate and organized apartment Carlos maintained. 

“Hey, we’re going to figure it all out, TK. There’s still time.” Marjan soothed. “I’m guessing Carlos will be staying with you initially?”

“Damn right.” TK would fight Michelle if he had to. He might lose a limb or warrant the ire of his dad, all of which he could deal with, so long as Carlos was somewhere he felt comfortable. “I’ll text Paul a list of things and where he can find them.”

“He’ll appreciate that.” TK’s fingers itched, free hand going to smooth down Carlos’s hair and readjust the O2 tubing near his neck, before setting it back down in his lap. Marjan’s phone beeped and she frowned as she read the message.

“I need to get going or I’m going to be late. Michelle is stopping by later with Paul.” Marjan stared at him as she stood. “Try to get something to eat, okay, if not text one of us and we’ll drop something off.”

“Thank you.” TK accepted her hug, shamelessly leaning into it, and exhaled shakily. “Let the others I appreciate them checking in.”

“Of course.” With one last squeeze, Marjan let go and left for her shift.

TK had one more day off before he needed to return to work, something he was dreading for the first time in a long time, and it was unavoidable. He had a job to do and TK couldn’t continue to call out or use sick leave or PTO. Michelle had already put in a for a few days, and Carlos’s mother was here now, they had a small pool of people that could be here for Carlos when he couldn’t. Settling in, TK shifted his body so that he was leaning against the mattress and close to Carlos’s head. Occasionally, there was movement under Carlos’s eyelids, and TK wondered at first if he was waking up, before being informed that the movement was automatic. That, and Carlos was drugged to the gills, deeply asleep and without pain.

“I’ve got you, Carlos.” TK murmured. “We’re all pulling for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 53 of quarantine, hope everyone is holding up alright and keeping healthy, leave a comment if you wish :)


	4. Chapter 4

It felt as if Carlos was trying to swim through sand. Awareness came to him in odd intervals; sometimes he registered noises or what he thought were voices around him, other times it was mainly the presence of pain. Eventually, everything started to sound and feel the same, even the pain felt muted. Carlos swallowed, unhappy with the taste in his mouth, and noticed that his tongue could move. He tried to wet his lips and wasn’t sure if he managed it.

Feeling a small rush of energy, Carlos attempted to open his eyes, which was a feat best suited for a strong man. It was as if someone had taped his eyes shut. After several false starts, Carlos opened his eyes, wincing at the light surrounding him. It took a few seconds to realize where he was. The hospital room was familiar, and he looked at all the lines and monitors attached to himself, as well as a pressure on his left arm.

Carlos frowned, slowly beginning to notice the pain, and turned his head to look down at his arm. The limb was currently being held by another hand, and as his eyes travelled up the hand, he caught sight of a familiar head of hair. TK was at his side, body slumped against the chair handle and almost in danger of falling off, gently holding onto him. Carlos tried to speak, wanting to talk to his boyfriend, but the words got caught in his throat, causing him to cough. The pain, which he had been able to ignore for the most part, came flooding back.

“T-ty,” Carlos tried to project his voce out, in between coughing, and he was aware that his eyes were watering. Another cough had him wincing and attempting to curl up to do something for the pain. Bad idea. Dimly, there was an alarm going off in the background, and that seemed to spur TK into wakefulness.

“Carlos, hey, hey, it’s okay.” TK’s hands fluttered around him, one hand going to press the call bell at his side, and the other going cup his face. “Come on, breathe with me, you need to calm down.”

Easy for him to say. His body was throbbing, words caught in his throat, and the pain wouldn’t stop.

“Mr. Reyes, you’re in the hospital,” The nurse said as she came in. “Your last dose of pain medication wore off and I’m going to need you to calm down for me. We can’t have you tearing your stitches.”

“He prefers Carlos.” TK interjected. TK stayed close to his side, linking their fingers together, and combing his other hand through his hair. The nurse walked him through some breathing exercises, helping him adjust his body in the bed, and got him a cup of water. The cold drink felt wonderful against his throat, and he tried to gulp down more of it, before the nurse pulled the cup and straw away.

“Little sips, okay? We don’t want you to get sick.” After the cup was empty, and Carlos didn’t feel like something had died in his mouth, the nurse asked him some basic questions. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Carlos Reyes.” It sounded like he had been gargling nails despite drinking the water. 

“Good, do you know where you are right now, Carlos?” The nurse had kind eyes and she patiently waited for him to answer.

“The hospital.”

“You got it, one more then I’ll go grab your pain medication, do you know what the year and day is?”

"2020." That was the easy part. Carlos frowned and tried to recall a date. His brain went blank and nothing came to mind. “No, I-I don't know the day. I'm sorry.” TK squeezed his hand. 

“It’s okay, if you turn your head a little to the right, you’ll see a whiteboard. It’s Thursday.” Carlos nodded and let his head turn back to TK. His blue eyes were trained on him, bright with worry, and Carlos pressed into the hand resting on his head.

“It hurts,” He whispered. TK bent down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Can he get that pain medication now?” TK asked. The nurse, Connie he later found out, left to fetch it. “Are you warm enough, I can ask for another blanket, maybe some more water?”

Carlos shook his head, tugging on TK’s hand, wanting him closer. TK bent down, hospital side bar cutting into his stomach, and pressed several lighter kisses to his cheeks and forehead. That was nice, and he wouldn’t refuse it, but it wasn’t what he wanted at that moment. Carlos wanted TK to curl up against him, so he could feel his body heat, and maybe go back to sleep.

“Want you next to me,” Carlos pleaded. TK frowned as he dragged the chair closer with his foot, unwilling to let go of him, and sat down.

“I want to lay next to you, too, babe, but I think that’s going to have to wait right now. There’s a lot of important lines connect to you and I don’t want you to hurt your stitches.” TK apologized. Carlos felt his eyes tearing up again, surprisingly upset and scared, and TK rushed to comfort him. “It’s not for long, Carlos, we can cuddle all you want once the doctors allow it.”

“Alright, here we go,” Nurse Connie swept back into the room, quickly administering the pain medication into one of the hanging IV bags, and disposing of the needle. “That should kick in shortly, Carlos. Can I get you anything else while I’m here?”

“Can he get on the bed?” Carlos asked, hating how much his voice trembled, and Nurse Connie smiled sympathetically at him.

“He was asking me to come lay down next to him,” TK cleared up. “I told him that it wasn’t the best idea right now considering everything that he’s attached to and all the stitches.” Carlos’s throat burned and he tugged harder on TK’s hand. He didn’t care about some stupid lines or the aforementioned stitches, he just wanted TK at his side. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere, Carlos. We just need to make sure you’re both safe and comfortable, I don’t want to accidently hurt you.”

“I can’t let him on the bed with you,” She started. “However, this bar does go down, so he can sit closer to you. How does that sound?” It didn’t sound great, to be honest, and Carlos was sure his face showed his displeasure.

“It’s just for a little bit, ‘Los. The doctor will be by later and we can ask, okay?” TK said gently. “You’re in a lot of pain, babe, we just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“Okay,” Carlos gave in, tears finally slipping down his face, and Nurse Connie showed TK where to find the lever to release the side bar. With instructions to press the call bell if they needed anything, she left, leaving the pair alone.

TK brushed his tears away, talking nonsense to him, and after a little bit Carlos stopped crying. He felt tired, likely due to the pain medication, and keeping his eyes open was becoming harder. Carlos fought against it, not wanting to go back into that endless void of before, and took in his boyfriend, who was now staring intently at him. TK looked exhausted. Dark circles rested under his eyes, his hair wasn’t as well maintained like it normally was, and Carlos noticed that he was wearing the navy blues that usually accompanied TK finishing a shift.

“What are you thinking about, huh?” TK brough the blanket up a little higher. It was scratchy, not anything he would normally use, but he didn’t want to ask for something different.

“Missed you,” Carlos mumbled. “You look tired.”

“I missed you, too. I’m really glad you’re awake,” TK said. “Don’t worry about me, Carlos, you just focus on getting better.” That didn’t sound like a fair trade. Carlos shook his head, which wasn’t much more than a twitch, and tugged TK closer. He didn’t want TK to be tired, especially not over him, even if the details of what had happened escaped him for the time being.

“What happened?” Carlos noticed how fast TK’s face closed off, becoming pinched, and he suddenly wished he hadn’t opened his mouth. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”

Did they have a fight? Get in an accident? TK didn’t look hurt, at least, not that he could see, which didn’t mean much. Lots of things could be hidden under a shirt. Though, if TK was in his work clothes, he couldn’t be that bad off, he couldn’t be on the line otherwise.

“No, sweetheart, you didn’t. You got hurt, Carlos, and you’ve been in the hospital for the past two days.” TK explained. “We can talk about it later, just get some rest; you need it.” Now that TK mentioned it, Carlos felt how heavy his body felt, and the call of sleep was beginning to sound nice. But that meant he wouldn’t be able to talk or see TK anymore, which wasn’t ideal, so Carlos shook his head again.

“I want to stay with you.” Carlos slurred. TK gave him a weak excuse for a smile.

“I’ll be here the whole time. Even when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.” TK promised. “Get some sleep, Carlos, I’ll be here when you wake up again.”

“Missed your voice.”

“I can keep talking to you, if it helps?” TK offered and Carlos tried to smile, which likely came out as a grimace, though his eyes were hopeful. “Okay, what do you want me to talk about?”

“Anything,” Carlos didn’t care, he could listen to TK talk about grass growing and would think that it was the greatest thing. TK chuckled and kissed him again.

“Did I tell you about the time Judd got his hand stuck in a jar?” TK started the story, voice soft and lulling, and Carlos tried to pay attention as best he could. Coupled with TK brushing his hair with his fingers, eventually, he lost the battle against his eyelids, closing them. Soon, he drifted off, pain fading back into the background.


	5. Chapter 5

Carlos drifted between wakefulness and sleeping for the rest of the day; TK helped sooth him when questions arose, wondering how much Carlos remembered, and tried to reassure himself that brief memory loss was something that he had been warned about. Thankfully, Carlos tended to ask similar questions, generally revolving around what had happened and if everyone else was alright, letting whatever TK said comfort him. Each time more details seemed to stick or come back to him and TK dreaded that day when Carlos remembered everything. 

The team came in to visit as much as they were able; Paul did bring a small bag of belongings to the hospital and informed TK that others were already waiting back at the apartment TK shared with his dad. Michelle was often there, checking everything, and asking dozens of questions to the doctor and nurses. Carlos was slowly being weaned off the morphine, resulting in one very long, uncomfortable night for his boyfriend, and was slated to be discharged in a day or so.

“Small, slow steps, Carlos,” TK reminded him. It had been an eventful morning and Carlos was exhausted. Occupational therapy had been in the evaluated and discharge him a couple of hours before, offering suggestions for how to manage at home, and Carlos had quietly asked for a brief walk around the ward. “Are you feeling dizzy? We can head back.”

It was unusual to see Carlos so sedentary and sullen. Carlos shook his head, tightening his grip on TK’s hand and the IV pole, turning the corner to his room. TK gently guided him to the recliner, easing him down, and quickly grabbed the blankets and arranged them so that Carlos was warm. The blood loss had left him prone to getting cold easier and shivering aggravated his stitches.

“I hate this,” Carlos said. TK frowned, sitting on the chair placed on an angle to the recliner, and brushed back the mess of curls on Carlos’s forehead. “Everything hurts.” Tk glanced at the white board, unhappy to see that the next dose of pain medication wasn’t for another two hours, and he tried to figure out what to do to take Carlos’s attention off the pain.

“Want me to call the nurse? She could help,” TK offered. Carlos looked away, hand clenching against the blanket, and TK was dismayed to see a sheen of tears clinging to Carlos’s lashes. “Hey, does something hurt? Carlos, look at me.”

“I just want to go home.” Carlos’s voice was still raspy, a side effect from the ventilator at the start of all of this, and TK scooted closer to press their noses together. “Everything makes me tired, TK, I just want to go home.”

“Soon, babe, they’re going to discharge you tomorrow possibly, and then you’ll come home with Dad and I.”

“What about my apartment?”

“It’s getting cleaned up, Carlos. You can’t stay there right now, maybe in a few weeks, after it’s done and you’re strong enough to stay by yourself.” TK, as well as the rest of their friends, were convinced that Carlos would be moving apartments when he actually got to see the damage. It helped that Judd had glared at the landlord when he mentioned that Carlos couldn’t break his lease, citing a binding contract, until Judd calmly mentioned the ‘extenuating circumstances’ that happened there.

“There was a break-in,” Carlos was getting bits of memory recall from that night and TK did his best to help him fill in the blanks and reassure him that he was safe now. Another officer had been by yesterday, to see if Carlos could give a statement, but ultimately Carlos couldn’t give him much. “I was hurt and then you were there.”

“Ya, someone called 911 and our team responded. We took care of you and got you to the hospital.” TK had tossed his uniform in the trash as soon as he could, not seeing the point of trying to get the blood stains out, feeling sick to his stomach knowing that it was Carlos’s blood on the fabric. “They brought your lunch tray in, why don’t we give it a try?”

Carlos shrugged and TK pulled the tray and table over. After setting it up, he lifted the cover, relieved that it seemed to be some sort of soup, which would be easier on Carlos’s throat. He nudged the bowl to Carlos, handing him the spoon, and Carlos took it after a moment. TK watched as Carlos lowered the spoon into the soup, swirling it around, not making any moves to bring it to his mouth.

“Carlos, you need to eat something.” This was one of their new struggles that popped up while being in the hospital. Carlos, who normally didn’t need any reminders or encouragement to eat, had staunchly refused to consume meals on a consistent basis. “Just a few bites.” TK looked over the tray, noticing a small container of fruit, and picked it up before opening it and offering it to his boyfriend. “Or, why don’t you try the fruit, they’ve got pineapple, that’s one of your favorites.”

The next hour was long, split between TK prompting and distracting Carlos from the now uncomfortable task of eating, watching as the bowl of soup was slowly consumed, and smiling in relief when Carlos took some of the fruit before pushing the tray away. Carlos was fighting sleep; like previous instances, he forced his eyes open, locked on TK. He looked at him as if his boyfriend would disappear.

“Can I stay in the chair? I don’t think I can make it to the bed,” Carlos asked. TK clasped their hands together and quickly dropped a kiss to his palm.

“Course you can. I think the sheets need to get changed anyway,” TK found the button the allow the recliner to go back a few inches, bringing the leg rest up, and fixed the blankets so that Carlos was covered, with their connected hands being the only appendage sticking out. “Paul and Marjan are going to stop by to visit today, if that’s okay with you.”

TK gave frequent updates, as did Michelle, and the team was cognizant to always ask before showing up. The day after Carlos first woke up had been rough, the man disorientated and exhausted, clinging to TK and sleeping in spurts due to the pain. Mateo had stopped by, giving TK a meal from the station, and had tried to talk to Carlos with limited success.

“Sure,” Carlos yawned and gave him a small smile as TK propped his head up on his free hand, elbow resting on the recliner’s arm. “I might fall asleep.”

“That’s alright, they’ll understand, ‘Los. You need to rest so your body can heal.”

“You’ll wake me up when they, right?” Carlos pressed. TK nodded, knowing that if Carlos was asleep when their friends dropped by, that nothing would disturb him. “Stay with me?”

“Not going anywhere, Carlos, you just get some sleep,”

TK amused himself by watching the silent TV playing in the room and watching Carlos. Once or twice he looked uncomfortable and a few soft words and touches often fixed the problem. Carlos had been sleeping for the last two hours when there was a knock on the door frame. Marjan was there, peeking her head in, and TK waved her in.

“Hey,” Marjan gave him a side hug and looked Carlos over. It was instinct at this point, checking for any new lines and rechecking the current ones, always looking to see if anything could be done or improved on. “Probie should be up in a few; he made a stop to the gift shop.”

“Oh god, that’s dangerous to leave him unsupervised,” TK laughed. “How was work today?”

“Nothing too extreme. You’re on tonight, right?” Marjan asked.

“Ya, Carlos’s mom is staying the night with him and Michelle will be here in the morning.” It wasn't ideal, especially since Carlos had been sleeping so poorly during the night, and typically woke up multiple times before registering where he was and who was with him.

“He’ll be out of here soon, TK, and then we can keep a better eye on him.”

As if they weren’t already doing that. TK was fairly sure that his dad was planning some sort of bonding sessions, excited to have someone else home with him as he worked back up to full-time following the chemotherapy treatments, and it didn’t escape his knowledge that their apartment was close by to everyone else.

“More memories are coming back,” TK told her, mirroring her worried expression, and sighed as he leaned back in the chair. “He’s going to have nightmares for sure.”

“They might prescribe him a sleeping aide. It might help with the sleep issues or is it all stemming from the pain?”

“It hurts more at night. He can’t sleep like he wants to and these beds aren’t comfortable.” TK hesitated before continuing. “We both sleep better when we can lay next to each other, which we can’t do right now, so that’s probably a big part of it.”

“You won’t believe what I found!” Mateo flew into the room, one small thing of flowers with a balloon held between his chest and arm, and one hand clutching a gift bag.

“Shh!” Marjan and TK scolded at the same time. “

Oh, shit, sorry!” Mateo whispered, placing the flowers and balloon on the side table, where Carlos would see it when he woke up. When it didn't look like Carlos would wake up, Mateo grinned and held up the bag. “Look what I found.”

He reached into the bag and pulled out a teddy bear dressed in a familiar uniform.

“You found a cop teddy bear?” TK asked, taking the bear and rolling it in his hand; the bear had a blue uniform, tiny stuffed radio, and a pair of cheap, gaudy sunglasses. TK was sure that Carlos would love it and he carefully tucked it between the gap where Carlos’s body was and the chair arm.

“He’s going to love it.”

“You think?” Mateo fidgeted, always double checking since that first disastrous visit, and TK patted the spot on the bed for him to sit.

“Ya, Mateo, he’s gonna get a kick out of it.” TK secretly hoped it would help, maybe get Carlos to smile longer than a few seconds, and turned to face his friends. “So, tell me what’s going on?”

Carlos slept through the visit, the longest stretch yet, and TK pressed a lingering kiss to Carlos’s cheek when it was time for him to go. Fingers crossed, he hoped that the restful sleep would last, but when he returned to the station to see several missed calls from Michelle, TK’s stomach dropped. He knew it had been too much too soon to hope that something good would come their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 57 of quarantine...how is everyone holding up? Also, thank you guys for all the feedback on this story! Seeing your comments makes my day :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for panic attack.

“You sure you don’t need any help in there?” Michelle asked again. Carlos fought back the urge to roll his eyes, despite being the only one in the bathroom, and leaned heavily on the sink counter. He hadn’t gotten much time alone since waking up, not that he was pushing for it, but having a few moments to himself would have been nice. Especially since he was working up to taking his gown off and seeing the damage for himself. “Carlos?”

“I’m okay, Michelle.” Carlos had promised to not lock the door, gently refusing to have Michelle in the bathroom with him, and they compromised by having the door cracked, just in case Carlos needed help or felt dizzy. “I just need a second.”

Getting the gown untied was a bit of a hassle, since he had to primarily use his left arm as his right was still sore, and soon it was done, leaving Carlos to slip it off. The bandages were stark against his skin, blocking him from seeing the stitches, and the bruising made him wince. He went through the motions of putting on deodorant, brushing his teeth, and then carefully slipping his shirt on. Carlos braced both hands on the counter, staring down into the sink, as he contemplated his next move.

He needed to put on his sweats, since he couldn’t go around in only his boxers, and that required him to look at his legs. Well, one specific leg, and the thought of that made him sick. Everyone else had seen it, from nurses to doctors to TK, Carlos had avoided it until this point. He figured that seeing it for the first time should be done alone. Taking a deep breath, Carlos reached down and grasped one end of the wrapping, carefully pulling it, until it was halfway off. Carlos's eyes were staring at the words carved into it, red and angry, and his brain refused to comprehend what it said. What the three letters formed and how they were now a part of his body.

Pig.

His stomach lurched and the meager dinner Carlos had managed to force down came back up, leaving him heaving in the sink. When that was done, it left him sobbing, body shaking as his brain tried to come to terms with what he had seen. He didn’t even notice the bathroom door opening, or Michelle coming to his side, too stuck in his own head and a panic loop.

"Reyes? Everything okay in there?" Michelle called out and Carlos couldn't form the words to answer her. There was a roaring in his ears and a cold sweat broke out over his skin. "Carlos if you don't answer me, I'm coming in." It could have been seconds or minutes after his best friend had spoken before she was bursting into the small bathroom, face cloaked in concern, taking in Carlos's hunched and trembling form hanging onto the countertop with a grip tight enough to make his hand tendons pop out. 

“Carlos, hey, let’s get you sitting down, alright?” Michelle went to touch him before Carlos could tell her not too. The instant her hand touched his shoulder, Carlos cringed, backing up and hitting the wall, chest heaving. He could see Michelle’s mouth moving, unable to hear a word of it, and he slipped down onto the floor. Catching his breath was getting harder to do and Michelle reached over to pull on the emergency call bell. She took one of his hands, which had been on a direct course to tugging his hair, and held it firmly.

“You’re having a panic attack,” Michelle informed him, eyes fixed on his face, and Carlos tried to curl up more when the nurse came into the doorway. “Let’s take a breath together, Carlos, deep breath in, hold it, and out.”

It took a while for him to calm down and by that point Michelle and the nurse had noticed the undone bandage. Carlos knew it had to be taken care of, rationally knew that the nurse didn't mean him any harm, but his body angled away from her as she tried to exam it. The nurse stepped out to grab a new dressing and quickly recovered it, Michelle stayed by his side to observe and offer a steady stream of conversation, before helping him into his sweatpants, and guiding him back over to the bed. Carlos felt exhausted and he wanted TK. It felt wrong; his mother and friends were here and while he was grateful for it, their soothing words and touches didn't have the same effect as his boyfriend. 

“It’s pig,” He choked out. “They spelled out pig.”

Crying seemed to be the only response his body could come up with, tears dripping onto his pillow, and Michelle stayed by his side, never telling him to stop. At least his mother wasn’t here to see this, knowing what had happened and seeing her son in such a state would probably break her heart, more than it was already.

“We’re going to catch these bastards, Carlos, they won’t get away with this,” Michelle seemed so sure of it. Carlos shook his head, another sob getting loose, and Michelle reached back to snag the tissue box off the side table. “Hey, look at me, no one is getting through those doors. You’re going to heal and be back to kicking ass on the streets in no time.”

How was he suppose to tell her that he was terrified of putting on a uniform again? That he expected the be hurt on the job, never in his own home, and not on such a terrifying level. That he knew other people were injured or dead and the perpetrators were still out there. Carlos couldn’t stop crying, despite Michelle’s attempts to calm him down, and even his nurse stepped back in, asking him if he wanted a mild anti-anxiety dose to help.

“Can yo-you call Tyler?” Carlos sniffled out as the nurse administered the medication. Michelle frowned at the clock, before hardening her face, and picked up her phone to dial TK’s number. However, the call didn’t connect, and Carlos stared in dismay as the call switched over to the voice mail box. A wave of selfishness came over him, making the tears reappear, and Carlos half-heartedly brushed off Michelle's placating touches.

“He’s coming back, Carlos, he gets off shift in less than 30 minutes.” Michelle kept trying, calling ever few minutes, and Carlos lay shivering in the bed. It was as if he was cold all the time now, regardless of the warm, soft clothing he had on, and the double set of blankets draped over him. The tiny bear that had been dropped off for him earlier in the day was resting on the bed, and Carlos quickly reached out and snagged it, wanting to curl up around something. Childish, maybe, but it had been given to him with the intention of cheering him up.

By the time TK burst into the room, panting and out of breath, Carlos’s tears had reduced to silent trails going down his face and eyes trained on the doorway. Michelle was seated on the edge of his bed, rubbing his back, and she looked over to TK with a sad expression.

“He saw his leg,” She explained, bringing the other man up to speed, understanding that a long conversation wasn't appropriate right now. “Ended up having a panic attack and wanted you.”

“It’s okay now, Carlos, I’m right here,” TK tossed his coat off to the side and peppered kisses on his cheeks, forehead, and a light one to his lips. Carlos lifted a hand up and fisted his shirt, tugging him down onto the bed, this time he was adamant that he get his way. “Babe?”

“Please lay down next to me?” Carlos begged. “Please?”

TK couldn’t say no; not when his boyfriend was looking like this, pale and terrified, only wanting him and having Michelle continue to try and comfort him. Michelle helped Carlos shift back on the bed while TK kicked off his shoes, and then gently laid down beside him. Carlos tucked himself against TK’s side, like he was trying to get under his skin, and Michelle fixed the blankets.

“I’m going to step out for a little bit, unless you want me to stay, Carlos?” Michelle asked. Carlos looked guilty, as if he was expecting to be yelled at for wanting some alone time with TK, and both of them quickly shut that thought down. “I don’t mind, Reyes, why don’t I go try to see if they have anything good down in the cafeteria? Sound good?”

"Maybe something that has taste?" Carlos timidly asked, face half obscured in TK's shoulder, and Michelle quickly nodded. 

"I'll see what I can do." She left the room quietly and TK reached an arm around to comb through Carlos’s hair, fingers occasionally snagging on a curl, before pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“They wrote out pig,” Carlos whispered. “I saw it.”

“It’s a lie, Carlos, you know that. It's a degrading slur.” TK said in a firm tone. “You had every right to look at it, baby, I just wish you had done it with someone else there. So, you didn’t have to face it alone.”

“I thought I could do it,” Carlos nuzzled against his shoulder and TK used his arm to wrap around his hips, avoiding Carlos’s stomach, and gently stroked his back. "All I ended up doing was freak out and scared Michelle."

“You’re going through a lot right now, Carlos, it’s normal for you to be overwhelmed right now.” TK didn’t bother listing off all the things that Carlos normally didn’t do since his world had been thrown off its axis. “Hey, I heard that you’re getting discharged soon. That’s some good news.”

“Are you sure it’s okay if I stay with you?”

“Carlos, I don’t want you staying anywhere else.” TK had seen the guest room set-up in between his time working and staying at the hospital, carefully unpacked Carlos’s things that Paul had grabbed, as well as arranging the various things his dad had gathered. “As long as you want to stay with me?”

“I always want to stay with you,Tyler,” Carlos looked up and offered him a watery smile. TK pressed their foreheads together.

“Then you’re coming home with me. I’m apologizing in advance for the hovering dad and I will do.”

It was hard work for TK to get Carlos to relax enough to go to sleep; even with the anxiety medication, he was jumpy and couldn't seem to settle. Eventually, through a combination of slow rocking, rubbing his back, and letting the taller man hide away in his shoulder, Carlos dropped off to sleep. Michelle crept back into the room a little over an hour later, eyes noticeable redder, and she smiled sadly at the picture of the two men on the bed.

TK, curled up around Carlos as much as he could be, and Carlos holding onto TK with a vice grip, face still damp in some areas. The quiet didn’t last, as Carlos woke up from another nightmare, and it took a little longer for him to settle this time. It might have been due to the emotional upheaval from earlier, or it might just be Carlos’s brain finally recalling the trauma, it was hard to say. Despite reassurances from the two of them, Carlos refused to go back to sleep, instead asking to sit up in bed while TK at his side.

Michelle cajoled him into eating the food she had grabbed from the cafeteria, a meager veggie burger and some kettle chips, and TK counted it as win when Carlos managed half of the meal. By the time the sun was fully in the sky, the doctor came in, repeating all the medical information and follow-up dates. Along with the pain medication, there was a prescription for a sleeping aid, and an anti-anxiety drug to be used as needed. Michelle left to bring TK’s car around while Carlos signed his discharge paperwork. Collecting Carlos’s belongings around the room, he shouldered the bag, also containing the medication, and helped Carlos into the wheelchair. He pushed his boyfriend out, who was now listing off to the side and was most likely going to fall asleep during the drive, and rubbed his thumb against Carlos’s shoulder.

“What are you thinking for dinner tonight? I won’t force my cooking on you, but I will allow you the power of choice over the take-out menus.” TK said lightly. Carlos hummed as they got outside, Michelle perking up when she saw them, and swept in to take the bag, leaving TK’s hand free to assist Carlos. “What about Mario’s? I’ll get your usual?”

“Sure,” Carlos let TK practically manhandle him into the passenger’s seat and accepted Michelle’s hug, listening to her say she would pop in once he was settled. TK kept a steady stream of chatter up as they drove back to the apartment, not put off by Carlos's lack of response, and kept one hand resting on Carlos's knee to ground him. TK wasn’t expecting anyone to be there when he pulled in, but he was surprised to not only see his dad waiting outside, but also Paul and Judd.

“You guys didn’t need to wait for us,” TK said as he got out, gently closing the door, and allowing Judd to ruffle his hair.

“Nah, it’s not a fancy welcoming committee, but Grace and I haven’t been up to see him yet, figured I could help.” Judd replied.

Paul was standing by Carlos's window, face stony, and TK could understand the stark contrast between their friend before and now. It didn't take long to unload the car. Owen led the way, taking the bag from the backseat and opening up the front door for them. TK was loath to wake Carlos up, and he normally would have just carried him in, but given everything that happened Carlos might freak out more if he awoke to being held. It took a few tries until Carlos came around and then he and Judd helped him out of the car, up the driveway, and into the house with Paul guiding from behind. TK steered them into the bedroom, where his dad had already pulled the covers back and had Carlos’s next medication doses ready to go with a glass of water. After the pills were taken, Judd guided him down to the bed, with Paul moving to close the blinds, and Carlos was out again.

“He looks better,” Was all Judd could say. The man couldn’t stay long, leaving shortly after that for his shift, and his dad followed suit, reminding TK of where everything was and to call if anything happened. Paul didn't have to be in until later, so he pulled up an arm chair, settling in to wait, as the TV clicked on and was put on mute.

“You’re going to be okay,” TK whispered fiercely. He grabbed his phone and settled in next to Carlos, not wanting to go too far incase he woke up and was scared in an unfamiliar place, and began to update their friends and family. “You’ve got to be okay.”

"Of course he is," Paul tacked on. "Carlos is tough, TK, he'll make it through." 

TK thought of the panic attacks, the constant state of fear Carlos seemed to emulate, and how his normally independent and confident partner was nowhere to be seen. Sure, Carlos would eventually make it through this, heal and come out stronger, but the process was going to be hard. 

"He's got all of us," TK said. Paul looked over at him, noting his focused expression trained on the sleeping figure between them, and reached over to lay a hand over Carlos's arm. 

"Damn right he does." Paul agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 59 of quarantine; I'm really enjoying how this story is coming along. The next few chapters are going to have some minor time jumps, but leave a comment if you want, I love seeing them :)


	7. Chapter 7

Living with the Strands was interesting. First off, Carlos didn’t have to worry about being bored; TK never left his side when he was home and Owen was never one to hold back conversation. He spent the first day sleeping in the guest room, rousing only for light meals, to take the next dose of medication, or to use the bathroom. It was slow going, especially when he initally woke up, and Carlos tried to deal with it as best he could.

He had gotten in contact with his supervisor, who told him in no uncertain terms that he was on extended medical leave, and not to enter the prescient if he wanted to have a desk to come back to. TK didn’t seem to understand his reluctance for not being able to work.

“You worked too much to begin with, Carlos,” TK said as he fluttered around the bedroom. They had moved into the other man’s room, for a change of scenery, and to give Owen some privacy as he did his daily yoga in the living room.

“I liked working, Tyler, I don’t like to be sedentary for long periods.”

“This isn’t forever, babe,” TK came over and pulled him into a gentle side hug. “Your body needs time to heal and all you gotta do it let it do its thing.”

“I recall a certain someone bitching about his own medical leave and how he couldn’t wait to be back on the firetruck.”

“Okay, touché,” TK laughed. “I just want you to kick back and relax for a little while, is that so bad? Maybe we can find you a hobby.”

“I think your dad has that covered,” Carlos said. Owen had waited until the morning to descend on him, showing him the various pain reliving tools he already owned, and thrusting several different handouts on meditation, mindfulness, and other articles on how to combat anxiety and pain. “Let me up, I need to stretch for a second.”

“Probably time for dinner anyway, ready to brave the living room?”

Carlos had seen their friends at random intervals, often at the end of a shift, and his phone was never silent for long periods. Paul was a frequent visitor, usually coming by with ingredients to cook, and with some funny story guaranteed to make him smile. There wouldn’t be any upcoming dancing plans, not that Carlos was rushing to go back, even if his body wasn’t hurting as much. Michelle’s schedule was a bit more hectic, and the end of her shifts occurred late at night, long after Carlos was either spent from the day, or passed out from the sleeping aide.

They kept in contact over text mainly, which meant they were sending GIFs back and forth, several of which he forwarded to TK. He learned that the other officers that had been targeted had made full recoveries, with only one death, sadly a co-worker that he wasn’t too familiar with. He still sent along a condolence card and flowers, since he missed the funeral, and decided to leave it at that. Before he knew it, Carlos has been staying with TK and Owen for a week, and it didn’t seem like the pair planned on letting him move out any time soon.

The stitches had come out, removing some of that lingering caution, and it wasn’t long before a bottle of coconut oil was found in his toiletry stash. When Carlos asked, Owen jumped into an explanation, all of which focused on scar reduction. The ones on his chest and stomach were easier to look at; the one on his leg was a different matter entirely. TK helped with those dressings, talking his way through cleaning the skin and applying the prescribed cream, and he always made sure to kiss Carlos when he was done.

During his follow-up, the doctor gave him the information of a plastic surgeon that could help with the scarring done to his leg, citing that it was unlikely that the scars would reduce in time. For now, Carlos kept the card tucked in the bottom of his bag, unsure of how he wanted to go about that whole issue. If he couldn’t stand to look at it, and he normally got upset when TK did, then having a complete stranger look at it would have to be worse.

“Grace is holding some sort of big dinner on Friday,” TK said as he changed. Despite the fact that he had an entire bathroom to use, as well as his own room, his boyfriend preferred to stay close by, now keeping a set of spare clothes in the guest closet alongside Carlos’s things. “Are you feeling up to it?”

“That’d be nice,” Carlos knew that it wasn’t expected of him to be social right now, and there were times when Carlos did ask to be left alone for an hour or so, and TK asking wasn’t unusual. “I miss seeing everyone.”

“Then I’ll put us down as a firm yes,” TK finished and crawled up the bed to where Carlos was sitting.

“It’s nice outside, we could go for a walk, or maybe just sit outside on the patio?”

It was a subtle ploy, one to get Carlos to burn up some of his excess energy and anxiety, and hopefully allow him to sleep more than a few hours. The sleeping aides helped, granting him a handful of restful hours, until a nightmare came around and then Carlos couldn’t snap out of it. The second panic attack that he had following his hospital admission came about as he was curled up on the guest bed, TK soothing him from behind, and Owen coaching him through some breathing exercises. That morning, he called up the pharmacy and requested a different sleeping aide.

Carlos knew that he likely exhibiting signs of acute stress disorder, would likely need to have a psychological evaluation done in order to return to work, and potentially continue the use of the anti-anxiety medication. Before all of this, Carlos didn’t get spooked easily. Now, he flinched when someone moved to quickly near him. He didn’t like the feeling of having his arms being held down by his sides, which meant that their cuddling positions had to change, and the bedroom door had to be kept open during the night. The worst parts were when he was alone in the apartment.

Carlos couldn’t ask TK to spend every second with him, not that TK would judge him, and Owen had a life and job as well. The visits were helpful, breaking up the day, and dispelling some of the silence that popped up. Being left alone meant the creation of new habits. Carlos double and triple checked the locks. He learned to anticipate a visitor or package, not even going towards the lock bolts until he confirmed who or what it was, and their friends quickly learned not to drop by without warning Carlos ahead of time.

Carlos wasn’t sure how he was going to manage when he went back to his own apartment. Judd had reassured him that the clean-up crew had done a great job, and he had been in contact with the landlord, but Carlos didn’t want to go back. He liked his apartment, it was the first place he lived by himself, and losing it felt like one more thing that had been dumped on him.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” TK asked. They had been watching a movie, Owen working a late shift, and he was currently laying against TK’s chest.

“I need to get a better security system, and a new door lock, or maybe I’ll just move,” Carlos said aloud, mind racing as he tried to formulate a plan and compare prices, and his breath hitched as the realization that most of his living room furniture would need to get replaced.

“We can figure it out together, is there anything I can do for you here, to make you feel safer?” Carlos shook his head, teeth digging into his lip, and TK pressed a kiss to the nap of his neck. “If moving is what you want to do, then that’s okay. You won’t be short of helping hands.”

“Maybe,” Carlos sagged, hating the rollercoaster of emotional he had been on, and TK muted the movie.

“No one is rushing you to make any decisions, baby. Dad and I love having you here and there is no time limit on you staying.” TK nudged his arm until Carlos looked at him. “What was it you told me once? Take it one day at a time?”

“No fair, using my words against me,” Carlos said, teasing him weakly, and TK nuzzled the spot behind his ear.

“Alright, I’m making the executive decision for snacks, finishing this movie, and following it up with a cuddle slash make-out session on the couch. Do I hear any disagreements?”

“Not from me,” Carlos knew that TK was trying to keep everything as normal as he could, so he let TK bring over too many snacks, rewind the movie, and gently set him up back in bed before delivering the promised make-out session. Taking things day by day seemed like a good plan, until Carlos was wide awake later that night, TK snoring softly next to him, and the weight of everything was crushing down on him.

Lying there, eyes shifting to each shadow in the room, Carlos wondered how he was going to manage that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the feedback you guys have given for this story is incredible! I love seeing all the comments :) This story is going to end around 11 chapters and I've got one or two other chapters ready to go, which will roll out this week. Leave a comment or kudos if you wish :)


	8. Chapter 8

The punching bag was the receptacle for his rage, laying hit after hit on the red material, padded fists flying. TK wasn’t one to take out his aggression like this, normally turning to things like running, but that wasn’t helping much these past few weeks. And TK needed to let it out before he got home to Carlos. Carlos wouldn’t be cross with him if he messed up, if he let some of his frustration at the situation show, but it would unsettle him and that wasn’t okay. Carlos needed calm, needed TK to be a person who would support him, not someone overwhelmed by anger. He pictured the faceless gang member in his mind, imagined their face on the bag and leveled two more hard punches.

“Is there a reason you’re going to town on the punching bag?” Paul’s voice shook him out of whatever hole he was current in mentally and TK shrugged. Slipping his gloves off, TK began the process of unrolling the wrappings, before tossing them to the side and picking up his water bottle.

“Carlos went in for his first meeting with the department therapist. After that, he’ll have a better understanding of when he can come back to work, even if it’s just working behind the desk.” Neither of them were fond of that option; Carlos, because he was at his best out on the streets, and TK because he knew that Carlos wouldn’t do well being stationary for much longer.

“Has he been sleeping any better?” Paul had been over enough times to see how dark the circles under Carlos’s eyes were getting, how he was drinking more caffeine than normal, and when he did fall asleep it was never for long stretches. Nightmares plagued Carlos, often occurring twice or more a night, leaving him anxious and exhausted come morning. TK shook his head, tossing the water back down, before crossing his arms.

“Not really. He sleeps better when I’m there, but night shifts are hard on him, since he’s alone in the apartment. Dad called Grace over a few times, because he couldn’t relax, and it was making Dad worried.” It made TK worried, seeing his normally composed boyfriend act like that, eyes shifting around the room, angling himself to protect TK and Owen, placing himself in the imaginary line of fire.

“It’s been a little less than a month, TK, look how far he’s come since then.” Paul knew it was a weak attempt to bring some positivity to the situation; Carlos had told them precious few details of that night, but he could make his own assumptions. However it went down, Carlos had fought like hell against his attackers, and now he was wading through the aftermath.

“Any word on his apartment?”

“He isn’t renewing his lease. We went there last weekend, the two of us, Judd and Dad, it was a mess.”

TK didn’t like to think of that afternoon, seeing Carlos practically shut down as they entered the threshold, seeing the couch with the missing cushions and obvious discoloring on the walls. Judd’s quick thinking had him pulling Carlos out of there in under five minutes, bundling him into the car, where TK curled around him until the shaking stopped. After that, Carlos didn't bother trying to convince TK, or himself, to keep the place.

“We got a storage unit for his things and when he’s ready we’ll help by making a list of potential places close by to look at.”

“When we talked last, Carlos didn’t mention he went back with you guys,” Paul was surprised Carlos had even wanted to go. Any time someone brought it up, he deflected, a clear sign that he either wasn’t willing or ready to discuss what had happened within those walls. “Is him living alone really a good idea right now?”

“Moving him out of there is the main priority right now,” TK scooped up his belongings and ushered Paul into a quiet area of the connected locker room when more firefighters came into the gym. “Maybe in a few weeks he’ll be ready to actually look at places, but for now, Carlos is staying with us. Dad and I don’t have a problem with it.”

The benefits of going to work meant that he was able to shut his brain off for periods of time. Focusing on the call, helping other individuals, it made him feel like he was able to do something, save someone, make a difference. The complete opposite of how he felt when he saw Carlos struggling. His boyfriend was curled up on TK’s bed when he got home, clad in one of his old t-shirts, exhibiting clear signs of wanting comfort.

“Hey you,” TK greeted, opening his arms when Carlos came to him for a hug, and rubbed his hands along his back. The ridges of his spine were a little more prominent today. “How’d it go with the therapist?”

“He said that I should continue to see him once a week for the next few months.” Carlos said, allowing TK to steer them towards the edge of the bed, clinging to him when they were seated. “I can go back to work next week. Desk duty only.” That was a relief to hear; TK had no doubt that Carlos would return to working as a cop, but at the current moment, anything strenuous seemed too much to ask of him.

“That’s great! We’ll have to figure out a way to celebrate.”

“I-I told him about the nightmares,” Carlos stuttered out. TK frowned, confused with the shift in conversation, but kept quiet and waited for Carlos to continue. “He said that it’s normal, given the trauma, but we talked about the other stuff-“

His voice hitched and TK carefully rearranged them so that Carlos’s head was tucked into his shoulder, a new favorite spot of his, and resumed the back rubbing.

“Easy, babe, slow down. You don’t have to rush, not with me, okay?” TK soothed. Carlos nodded, taking several deep breaths, the motion now engrained in him from doing it so many times over that last few weeks. “So, you talked to the therapist about the nightmares? What else did you discuss?”

“Me constantly checking the locks. Always jumping at sudden noises or when someone moves too fast.” Carlos fiddled with the hem of TK work shirt. “That I’m either too anxious to go outside by myself or that I can’t stop myself from panicking when I’m alone.”

“Which is normal and valid for what you went through.” TK reminded him. Carlos shrugged, moving his head enough to meet TK’s eyes briefly, before darting back to his previous position. The action made TK’s stomach twinge; Carlos was never this shy when they talked, not about serious topics, and certainly not when he was talking about them with TK.

“He thinks I have PTSD.” Carlos said tonelessly, as if he had been talking about it for hours, and it struck TK as he said it that it made perfect sense. Carlos was suffering from reoccurring nightmares, was triggered by certain sounds, and was overwhelmed by anxiety and paranoia when left to his own devices.

“And what do you think about it? Do you agree with him?” TK asked, keeping his voice free of judgement, letting the concern bleed through. Carlos didn’t speak for a long time, preferring to keep his face tucked into TK’s neck, and TK didn’t try and rush him. Either Carlos would talk or he wouldn’t.

“I told him that I’d been thinking about it for the last couple of weeks. Probably more since-since we went back to my old apartment.” Carlos pulled back, sitting upright next to TK, finally making eye contact with him. “I heard him say it, that I likely have PTSD, and I just…cried.”

“Because you didn’t want to be right?” TK wondered. “Or was it too much to deal with right then?”

“No, I was relieved.” Carlos said, the back of his neck flushing, as if he was ashamed. “It felt like this big weight came off my shoulders.”

“Carlos, listen to me,” TK carefully put a hand on his cheek, turning his head until they were both facing one another. “I’m so proud of you for telling me this. For letting me in.”

Opening up had always been a struggle for TK, especially when it came to any form of romantic relationships, but with Carlos it felt simple, almost like breathing. To have Carlos place that same trust in him, to let him see the parts of him that were the most vulnerable right now, was probably the biggest show of faith Carlos could give him. They talked about it a little more, focusing on the rest of the session, and briefly talking about the different exercises Carlos had been given to try next time a nightmare happened or he was anxious.

For the time being, Carlos asked to keep these new developments between them, not completely ready to share it with the rest of their friends. TK, who had often been called overprotective since this whole thing started, was more than willing to accommodate Carlos’s wishes.

Carlos refused to let TK, or the rest of his friends, pitch in for the storage unit. They came to a compromise and instead took over the role of packing Carlos’s belongings away, not wanting Carlos to spend any amount of time in the apartment. The group ended up back at Grace and Judd’s place, joking around and having a good time, enjoying the food and company. That night, Carlos made it through half a sleep cycle before waking up, and it didn’t take as long for him to come to awareness. A few days later, Carlos left to go meet Michelle for brunch on his own, something that made TK burst with pride.

Slowly but surely, Carlos was coming back to them, despite the wishes of his attackers to snuff him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the flashback chapter has been written, as well as the final chapter. Hope everyone is doing well and trying to stay positive. Today marks the start of phase one for reopening our state, but continue to stay safe and healthy peeps. Leave a comment if you wish :)


	9. Chapter 9

The three of them had settled into a routine two months into Carlos staying with them. At first, Carlos thought he was imposing, not wanting to take up too much space or time; that was quickly driven out of his mind when Owen started to include him on his daily yoga routines when he was medically cleared and again when the two started to swap cooking recipes and tricks. Even though the weather was getting warmer, Carlos refused to wear shorts, preferring his jeans or sweatpants.

TK went out one day and came back with some athletic wear, pointing out the breathable fabric, that could leave Carlos covered and cool. He was still anxious when viewing his leg, but it was manageable if he had someone nearby, normally TK and on a few occasions Michelle. Four days out of the week, Carlos went into work, regulated to desk duty or basic ride along patrols. The department therapist continued to see him once a week and it became second nature to tell TK about it as soon as he got home.

The grounding exercises seemed to be working; Carlos was slowly beginning to sleep an hour or so more at night and he could have the door closed halfway as long as there was a light on in the room.

“I was thinking about starting to look into a couple of nearby apartments,” Carlos said one morning. He and TK were spending a lazy day in bed, Owen leaving early to go on a hike with Judd and Grace, ensuring the apartment was free of any parental figures. TK pushed himself up to sit along the headboard.

“That’s a pretty big step. Not that I’m saying you shouldn’t!” TK hurried to correct himself. “Dad and I love having you here, even if it was always clear that you would want your own space.” Carlos rolled over, placing his head in TK’s lap, and soon a gentle set of hands were combing through his curly hair. “What made you think of it?”

“One of my co-workers, Johnathon, his wife works as a painter. He told me that she offered to help paint at my new place if I wanted. Even gave me a discount. I guess he talked to all of us that were,” Carlos paused, nose scrunching up as he figured out the right word to use. “All of us that were attacked that night. As a way to help.”

Carlos didn’t like being labeled as a victim. He was used to being on the other side; finding the criminals, keeping people safe, comforting victims. Being on the receiving end, as the one that needed the reassurances and understanding of others, was something he never imagined. Even amongst his closest friends and family, Carlos shied away from talking about it, deciding that his silence was better than burdening them in the long run.

“That’s awesome. We can go down to the hard ware store, pick out some paint, Dad probably has some opinions on what certain colors mean.” TK was slightly saddened to know that Carlos had been thinking of leaving, it had always been coming, and all he could do was hope that Carlos would find a new apartment nearby. “Whenever you want to start, I’ll go with you.”

“It’s just been on my mind for a few days.” Carlos leaned into TK’s touch, almost purring when TK’s nails scratched his scalp, before continuing. “Like, sometimes I get excited about looking at new places, and the different things I could do that I never got a chance to at my old one, but then it just gets overwhelming.”

There were still plenty of things for him to be wary of if he moved; installing a better security system, replacing his ruined belongings, if he could handle being alone in a new place. While the cases against the gang members was still ongoing, there had been limited activity from them, something that left Carlos with a bunch of mixed feelings. Good, because it meant that no one else was getting hurt. Bad, because it meant that he was always on edge, wondering if they would come back, or if they had just up and left the area.

“Can I pose a compromise?” TK tilted his head up by his chin and fingers skimmed Carlos’s cheekbones. “What if we still start looking for a new apartment for you? We can get you a new couch, pick out that paint, and figure out the security measures. And, at least until you feel comfortable, you can still stay here when you need to.”

Carlos thought about it. It wasn’t a terrible idea. He could get used to his new space and then still come back to TK when he needed the feelings of safety that his boyfriend offered. Owen was in no rush to see him go, often pulling him into whatever new craze or interest he was on for that week, and now some of his favorite pastimes were spent with the older firefighter.

“I think I would be okay with that,” Carlos said. “It would be like when we first started seeing each other.” TK rolled his eyes, unable to fight the smile that broke out across his lips, and both of them let their minds wander back to those early days. The ones with rushed kisses, nighttime meetings, of curling up together and then having to keep their attention focused when in public.

“Would you be made if I told you that there is already a list floating around?” TK asked, sheepishly, hoping that Carlos wouldn’t be angry that someone else had gone ahead and done some of the legwork to find a new place. At Carlos’s negative reply, TK explained. “Paul, Marjan, and I started to look around. We found some awesome picks, in good neighborhoods, and all of them are close by to work and here.”

“I’m not mad,” Carlos said. “More…relieved, I guess? I know you wouldn’t go and do it if you didn’t have good intentions.” When he had gotten his first place, his mother and older sisters had helped, showing him the ropes and telling him what to look out for.

“We could look over the list one day, maybe next week, I’m still trying to psych myself up for this.”

“You don’t need to psych yourself up for this, babe. If you wake up tomorrow and want to move, then I’m all for it. And if you change your mind that same day, then that’s okay, too.”

TK wouldn’t force Carlos, no more than the man was already doing so to himself, understanding intimately the consequences of pushing yourself before you were ready. Somehow, Carlos was roped into a new group chat, (titled Carlos’s new crib), that included the 126, Michelle, and Grace. The list was uploaded and picked apart by their friends. A week later, Carlos found a new security company and got a free quote and spent an hour on the phone with the marketer, asking question after question.

Owen, who had been home that day, watched him pace back and forth in the hallway, writing down on the tiny notepad as he got the answers to his rapid-fire questions. When that was done, Carlos felt drained; while he was impressed by the information he received, it didn’t feel like it was enough, that nothing save for cementing the doors and windows shut would be enough to return that feeling of safety.

“Everything alright, Carlos?” Owen asked. Carlos nodded, biting his lip, a new nervous habit that emerged a few days after his stint in the hospital. “Why don’t you sit down, you’ve been on your feet all afternoon.” Slowly, Carlos shuffled over to the couch, sitting down on the other end and stared blankly at the black TV screen.

“They have a good package. Intercom, multiple camera’s inside and outside, 24-hour service. I can even access the video feed on my phone or laptop.” Carlos wrung his hands together and Owen carefully moved over, noticing an impending anxiety attack after having Carlos live with them for so long. “It’s miles ahead of what I had in the past.”

“Then it sounds like the right pick.” Owen stopped moving when there was half a seat cushion between them. Keeping his body relaxed, Owen placed his hand on Carlos’s shoulder, an action that had the younger man hunch forward, some of the tension leaving him. “You don’t have to make any decisions today, just calling and getting the information was a big step, Carlos.”

"I’m going to have to make a decision sometime. Find an apartment, say yes to this security company, go furniture shopping, all of it has to get done soon.” Carlos swallowed and dropped his head into his hands. “I know everyone keeps telling me that it’s fine, that I don’t have to rush, but I can’t avoid it forever. I’m useful at work, I can do stuff to keep my mind busy, and then when I leave my mind starts racing. I can’t turn it off.”

“You’ve managed to go back to work, yes, and start going back into the community on your own. Maybe you aren’t making any big decisions, which doesn’t mean you’re failing, but the little ones are just as important and impressive.” Owen considered his next words. “Carlos, we honestly thought we might lose you that night. So, when we tell you that there is no rush for you to go back to normal, we mean it.”

“Is this your way of saying that you wouldn’t be opposed if I asked to stay a bit longer?” Carlos lifted his head, a shy smile on his face, and Owen tightened his grip.

“Stay as long as you want, Carlos, this just means that I have an extra person on hand to wrangle TK.” That got Carlos to transform that shy smile into a full blown one. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry and there is an awesome burger joint downtown that has been calling my name all day.”

“I could go for a burger,” Carlos allowed himself to be herded down to his room to grab his wallet before following Owen to his car. TK was working, sending Carlos text messages when he could, and Owen insisted on a selfie which got sent to his son. TK responded seconds later, citing jealousy for the good food and thrilled that Carlos was getting out.

The impending decisions regarding his new place of living, how he would keep himself safe, and any other little issues might be hanging over his head right now. Carlos couldn’t think about it for long without throwing himself into a loop of anxiety, but for the first time in a long time, he felt hopeful about the future. There were plenty of people ready to help him by his side when it was time to make a choice anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are closing in on the end of this story! I've got the last two chapters written and ready to go :) All of your support and excitement has made creating this story that much more fun. Leave a comment if you wish :)


	10. Chapter 10

It happens on a Wednesday. They’re at Grace and Judd’s house, just finishing dinner, and Carlos is sat between TK and Marjan. The kitchen is bustling, people moving around one another in an effort to clean up the mess leftover from their meal, and the living room seemed like a better alternative than navigating the chaos. His stomach is full, not uncomfortably so, just enough for Carlos to be aware that he could fall asleep on the couch if he wanted to.

No one would blame him if he did; Owen had been stepping up with the essential oils, Michelle and TK had been pushing him to get out of the house more, and he had finally caved in and stared to go back to his old workout routine with some of his work friends. Life was slowly returning to normal, as normal as it could be, and Carlos was even warming up to the idea of beginning the hunt for a new apartment.

Which was why he was unprepared for the unexpected wave of unease that came over him. There was a faint smell of something in the air, a fruity kind of smell, and it made his stomach roll. Carlos tried to ignore it, thinking it was just a stray scent from the kitchen, but it didn’t go away. If anything, it got stronger, invading his nose, making him feel like his skin was crawling. TK was wrapped up in a conversation with Mateo, Marjan focused on her phone screen, and Carlos took that moment to excuse himself to the bathroom.

The click of the door shutting, as well as the soft turn of the lock, did nothing to calm him down. Carlos noticed his hands shaking and quickly tucked them around his waist, eyes scanning the small room, before sitting on the edge of the tub. His chest felt heavy, like something was sitting on it, and he could still smell the fruity scent. Hands coming up to press against his eyes had Carlos letting out a shaky breath. Carlos tried to find something in the room to focus on and failed. It was the scent. The fucking fruity piece of whatever it was.

Closing his eyes again, Carlos didn’t notice when he started to rock back and forth, mind racing to put the pieces together. And, then he wasn’t in the bathroom anymore, wasn’t in Grace’s blue painted bathroom, Carlos was back there. Carlos had experienced anxiety and panic attacks. Full on flashbacks hadn’t even been a thought in his head. Right then, he was back in that apartment, fully aware that he was going to die that night.

_“You’re so pretty, how did your momma get you to be this pretty?” Hands sliding along his stomach, fingers toying with the band of his pajama pants, and Carlos buckled, tried to throw the hands off. “Still got some fight in you, huh? That’s alright. I like it better when they fight back.” The first stab into his stomach was blinding, Carlos biting back a scream, but the man grinned. “Ya, just like that.” Another stab, another pair of hands pressing down on him, the sounds of him chewing a piece of gum echoing in his ears._

_Fruity. Maybe strawberry or something. They got tired of messing up his chest and then the hands were back at it, trying to devest him of his pants, and Carlos did scream this time, kicking and fighting as much as he could. A tight grip on his hair sent his head crashing to the floor, the back of his skull exploding in pain, and Carlos blacked out for a moment. When he came around, it was to the sensation of cold air on his legs, and he watched with blurry eyes as his pajamas, once his favorite pair, were tossed to the side._

_“God, even his legs look amazing.” When they were intimate, TK took the time to map out his legs, pressing kisses to the spaces and crevices along each limb. There was no such gentleness here; nails clawed in, skin and muscle harshly grabbed, and Carlos almost stopped breathing when he noticed the knife. It was dripping, the sickening dripping sound hitting his body and the floor, a horrible soundtrack to what was happening here._

_“I think we can improve on them, don’t you?” The first man pinned his legs, one being turned slightly out to the side, and the others held him down on his chest and shoulders. It was hard to breathe with that much weight on him and Carlos shook his head when the fabric of his boxers was pushed up. “Shh, just relax, I just want to leave you a little present. Something for you to remember me.” The knife traced his skin first, then began to cut, until finally it was almost embedded inside. Carlos was almost unconscious at that point, trembling and pale, crying quietly._

“Carlos! Carlos open the door!” The sounds of shouting brought him out of it, startling him enough to send Carlos crashing to the floor, and he didn’t attempt to stop his fall. His elbow hit the radiator at an angle and Carlos eventually came to rest in a heap on the tiles. “Son of a bitch, TK, move!” Without warning, the bathroom door flung open, TK barreling in, the others crowding around the doorway with matching expressions of concern.

“He’s pale as a sheet,” TK went to put his hands-on Carlos’s face, and couldn’t hide the hurt in his eyes when Carlos moved away. “Okay, no touching right now, that’s fine. Carlos, can you hear me? Say something?” As much as he wanted to, Carlos couldn’t find the words, couldn’t move them from his brain to his tongue. Another set of footsteps came over and then Judd’s face was in his line of sight. The other man’s expression was focused, mouth set in a hard line, but Carlos could detect the worry.

“Having a rough go of it tonight, aren’t you, Carlos?” Judd sat down next to him, still not touching, just blocking him from the sight of the rest of their friends who were crowding around the door. “That’s cool. Grace was mentioning earlier how no one has spent enough time admiring her new bathroom remodel.” It was a ploy to distract him, one that Carlos used to use all the time on the job, something that was used to calm down others.

Judd talked about a number of different things; last night’s football game, the stupidity of people who didn’t know how to drive in Austin, much less park here, how if he had to try out one more vegan restaurant than he would eat his own shoe. Carlos wasn’t sure how long the three of them sat there, asses numb and backs hurting, nor was he sure of when exactly the doorway cleared of everyone looking on. Slowly, Carlos shifted, inching his hand towards TK, who eagerly grabbed it.

“Feeling a little better?” TK asked. Carlos nodded, embarrassed, and Judd knocked his elbow against Carlos’s arm.

“Nothing to be ashamed of. Did you know that I had Owen help me through when I started reliving shit? He never made me feel bad, or even have me talk about it with him, just got me somewhere quiet until I felt calmer.” Judd said. Carlos did feel better, less like his body was on autopilot, more like himself.

“One of the guys, he was chewing gum, I guess I got triggered by the scent of it.” Carlos wasn’t sure why he came out with that; precious few details had been shared about that night, even to those closest to him, so why was he deciding now was a good time? “I couldn’t stop thinking about it, decided to come in here, and it just got worse.” TK ran his thumb along the knuckles of Carlos’s hand, taking it all in, and Judd got up for a moment, swiping a dixie cup from the cabinet and filling it with water.

“Sounds like a flashback situation. I’m guessing this has never happened before?” Judd passes him the cup of water and Carlos takes it with his free hand; TK’s warmth is grounding at the moment, and he still feels awful for not accepting his touch earlier.

“I felt like I was back there.” Carlos hates how flat his voice sounds. Hates that he can’t find the energy or desire to cry or rage anymore. It’s like all of that has burned out of him weeks ago, leaving a void in its wake, just an empty husk.

“So, it was the gum scent?” TK knew that Paul was going to feel awful, since he had popped a piece in shortly after dinner, and none of them had even thought about potential triggers that could arise from certain smells.

“It was something fruity.” Carlos said. Judd made him drink the cup and then got him another one. Around that time, he told TK to stay there, letting them know he would inform the others. Carlos listed onto the wall, feeling drained and exhausted, wanting nothing but to go to sleep. TK took Judd’s spot. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to ruin tonight for everyone,” Carlos let TK wrap an arm around his shoulder, guiding him away from the wall and into his side, fingers fiddling with the paper cup in his hands.

“You didn’t ruin anything. We all had a good time, Carlos, and no one is mad at you. What happened wasn’t your fault or anyone else’s. It happened, you talked about it to us, and now I can focus on making sure my best guy is taken care of.” TK punctuated his words with a kiss, coaxing a weak smile from Carlos. They end up spending the next hour on the floor, Carlos slowly gaining feeling in his remaining limbs, all of which protest in the form of pins and needles after he stands up.

There wasn’t any awkwardness in the living room when they stepped out, just barely veiled concern, and Carlos accepted the hugs from Marjan, Mateo, and Grace; Michelle was harder to convince, and Paul straight up refused to leave his other side, already telling him that he chucked his pack of gum.

“It was a bad flavor anyway,” Paul insisted as he pressed several containers of leftovers into TK’s hands, ignoring his disgruntled look. “How do you feel about a movie marathon sometime this week?” They head out shortly after that; Carlos is fading fast, relying on TK more and more to respond to any given conversation, and the niceness of the evening seems to have been spoiled. Owen sent them ahead, letting TK know that he’ll be home later tonight, clapping Carlos on the shoulder before drawing him in for a hug.

Carlos shamelessly stole one of TK’s hoodie’s that night, the large oversized on that lived on TK’s closet door, before tucking himself against his chest. TK didn’t mind, hand coasting from the top of his head, down his back, skimming his hips, before starting again.

“I want to talk about it.” Carlos didn’t feel empowered by the words, had no revelations or sense of relief, and TK seemed to be feeling the same things.

“I’d be honored if you told me, ‘Los, that you would trust me with that,” TK knew the importance of this moment. Carlos had avoided talking about what happened, only giving out tiny pieces at a time, often coming off the tail end of a nightmare. “You can tell me anything. Even if it’s just a few sentences or whatever.”

Carlos moved, so that this time he was the one sitting up and TK the one looking up from his lap, and thought about how to start. Finally, he decided to just start talking about what he remembered, knowing that TK won’t be bothered by the gaps in his memory. It’s hard, at first, Carlos stuttering and pausing after each sentence, not knowing if it was too much or not enough, slowly letting TK comfort him at every chance.

He didn't manage more than a few minutes of talking about it, scared to trigger some other half-forgotten memory from that night, so TK dragged him down and rolled him so that Carlos was the little spoon. TK was caring in his praise, hands tangled up with his, lips pressing kisses into each patch of skin that could be reached, ears hanging off of the compliments and little adorations that TK whispers in the night. Carlos wasn’t even sure when he drifted off, warm and comfortable, letting TK take his weight as his body slowly relaxed from the stress of the day. Carlos was surprised when it’s the light from the window that wakes him in the morning, before a massive realization hits him; for the first time in weeks, he slept through the night. Smiling, Carlos turned, inhaling TK’s scent, and enjoyed another morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are coming to a close, one more chapter left of this story, all of your feedback and love for this project has been incredible! 
> 
> Also, this is the warning for a flashback scene.


	11. Chapter 11

TK stretched and savored the feeling of having a day off for the first time in a few weeks. Carlos, still asleep next to him, was half buried under the sheets, and TK spent a while staring at him; the normally gelled down curls were on full display and TK carefully threaded his fingers through some of the wayward strands on top of his head. Carlos didn’t have the day off, as he had a shift later on that afternoon, but they had the morning to spend together.

Carlos had been cleared to start working more hours, including his return to patrols and responding to calls, which only served to improve his self-confidence. The first-time seeing Carlos on the scene that the 126 had also been responding to had been a sight for sore eyes; the glances he caught as he worked showed Carlos in his element, calm and collected, doing what he did best. The other cops seemed to be thrilled that Carlos was back as well.

What made the morning even more special was that it was the first one spent in Carlos’s new apartment. It was in a quiet part of Austin, less than ten minutes away from where TK was staying with Owen, and surprisingly Marjan was also fifteen minutes down the road. They had moved in all of Carlos’s belongings that were in the storage locker, awaiting the delivery of the rest of the new furniture later that week, so all that was left to do was unpack everything and make the place look homey.

As much as TK wanted to spend all their time together soaking Carlos in, he was starving, and Carlos likely would be as well. They had gotten to bed late the previous night; their friends had come over to help with the last of the move, resulting in them ordering take-out, and then TK and Carlos decided to have a little fun when they were alone. It made TK giddy to be that close to Carlos again. Sex was something that had been pushed aside for the time being and to have it start up again was wonderful.

There were days when Carlos couldn’t stand to not be touching him in some fashion, be it holding hands, cuddling next to one another, or trailing a finger over a patch of exposed skin. Other times, usually following a panic attack or bad nightmare, even the simplest of touches was too much, and all TK could do was sit close by, waiting for Carlos to give the okay. Carefully, TK slipped out from under the covers, quickly moving them back to keep the heat it and tucking them snuggly around Carlos.

His boyfriend didn’t stir, still deeply asleep, and that made TK relived since getting any rest had been a struggle. Dropping a light kiss to Carlos’s forehead, TK crept out of the room, leaving the door partially cracked, and headed for the kitchen. They would need to make a grocery store run, but they did have some staples, at least enough for pancakes. It didn’t take long before TK heard movement in the bedroom; by the time Carlos was shuffling his way down the hall, half the batter had been made into fluffy pancakes and the coffee was nearly done.

Carlos rubbed his eyes, clad in one of TK sweatshirts again, before wrapping himself around TK as he manned the stove.

“Good morning.” Half-asleep Carlos might be one of his favorite versions of Carlos, complete with that lovely Texan drawl and soft smile. Pausing in his efforts to make breakfast for a moment, TK spun around, careful not to dislodge Carlos’s hold. The two of them didn’t bother to talk, not needing to improve the atmosphere of the kitchen with conversation, but eventually TK’s stomach growled. Laughing, TK kissed Carlos, not caring about morning breath, and turned back to the stove. Carlos, not done cuddling, held on, hands dipping under his shirt to rest on TK’s hips.

“Good morning, sleep okay?” TK scooped the pancake out, placing it on the plate nearby, before reaching up and in to the cabinet where he knew some of the mugs had been stored. Grabbing two, he set them down on the counter, before pouring more batter into the pan. “I figured I could be the cook this morning. Coffee should be done, why don’t you fix us both a cup, these should be ready to eat in a few minutes.”

“You didn’t have to cook,” Carlos said, letting go of TK and making his way over to the coffee pot, expertly pouring the dark liquid into the mugs, then reaching into the fridge for the milk. Carlos handed TK his drink first, leaning off to the side, slowly sipping his own cup. “Though, I am glad the fire alarm didn’t go off, not exactly how I want to spend the first day here.” TK groaned, there was no heat behind it, and turned off the burner.

“It was one time, Carlos, one time!”

“Someone called the fire department because your alarm wouldn’t turn off, TK, and it was your dad that responded. It is kind of funny,” Carlos teased. It had been the first time TK tried to cook a fancy dinner for the two of them, an effort to surprise Carlos, and instead he got his own station to respond to an out of whack smoke alarm. He hadn’t been allowed near a kitchen for a whole week, and when he was, everything he did was heavily watched and scrutinized.

Even now, TK was sure that some ready-to-eat meals would be coming their way; Paul mentioned sending some along so Carlos didn’t have to worry about cooking for a little longer, as did Michelle. Carlos wasn’t working any crazy hours, yet, but a cop’s schedule wasn’t regular and Carlos was so determined to get back to business that he’d likely pick up any shift, regardless of the hour. So, premade meals that only needed to be heated were a godsend in TK’s eyes.

“Fine. Maybe a little funny. Now, grab some food before it goes cold,” TK might have put one or two extra pancakes on Carlos’s plate; he had lost weight initially and it had slowly been coming back, and depending on the day his boyfriend was having his eating habits could vary. Some days Carlos ate like nothing was wrong, other times he couldn’t manage more than a bite or two, so TK was proud when Carlos finished the first pancake and swiftly moved onto the second. There was no need to talk during the meal, the two of them content to simply enjoy one another’s presence.

Things had slowly been looking up; the new apartment, Carlos sleeping better and reporting that the return to work was going well, in addition to the news that several days ago the gang members had been arrested. It was unclear at this point if Carlos would be called in to testify during the trial, a possibility that turned TK’s stomach, and he pushed it aside for later. When Carlos got the news, TK wasn’t sure what he expected.

Tears? Maybe. Throwing something in anger that it had taken so long? Sure, Carlos had been angry about the situation dozens of times, this time would have been appropriate. No, Carlos had gotten the phone call, thanked the person that told him…and started to laugh. TK rolled with it, mildly concerned, allowing Carlos to come to terms with it while he quietly waited.

“It’s over,” Carlos finally said, eyes wide and hands tangling in his hair. “They got caught because they were sloppy, Ty, they tried to rob a place and stood directly in front of the cameras. Not even an hour later they arrested them.” TK thought it might have been harder to find them, or at the very least, more violent, given all the crimes that had committed. The tears had come later than night, when the news had had a some time to sink in, Carlos finally giving into the knowledge that he was safe.

“I was thinking that we could go out dancing this weekend,” Carlos suggested as he popped the last piece of pancake into his mouth. “Paul mentioned it last time we talked and it doesn’t hurt to move around that much anymore.” The scars would always be there, despite the care they had received, and some days were easier for Carlos to deal with than others. With the return to their sexual endeavors, TK knew that Carlos was feeling better, and dancing had always been a good time for them.

“Hey, if it gets my hands on you then I’m all for it,” TK leered, pleased with the eye roll accompanied by a faint blush. As much as TK wanted to say that it was all sunshine and rainbows now, there was one glaring piece that had yet to be addressed; Carlos’s leg was still something that he was uncomfortable with. When they had sex, it was with the lights off or dimmed, and Carlos didn’t want any touches to the inside of his legs. TK didn’t push the issue, respecting the boundaries, and made up for it in other ways.

Normally, Carlos called the shots, preferring to be on top, but lately they had been switching things up. TK began to find himself in the driver’s seat, something that he knew wasn’t to be taken lightly, and when he asked Carlos about it, if he was sure, the answer he got knocked the breath out of him.

“The last time I was on my back like this, I was getting stabbed; you make me feel safe.”

TK was not complaining about being on top, and took the time and effort to make Carlos feel good during their romps in bed. For the time being, the scarred words would be staying on Carlos’s leg; the one and only attempt for a consultation with the plastic surgeon had gotten them as far as the hospital parking lot before Carlos backed out. TK, well aware of how badly things could go if there was pressure to get medical services, didn’t force Carlos, making it clear that it was his decision and that TK would support him regardless.

So, they modified their touches in bed and TK purchased more variety of pants for Carlos to wear. Clean-up was a breeze. They existed in their own little orbit, moving around one another, not straying far for too long, and taking liberty to exchange heated kisses and touches. For the first few days, TK would be staying over, and then slowly work back to their old routine. As hesitant as he was, TK knew that Carlos wanted to try this, and while it made every bone in his body ache to say yes, TK did. It would be weird to not see Carlos every moment of the day.

They might have moved in together, which had been on the table at one point, but adding another life event in the mix right now seemed like chancing fate. Dropping the last of the dishes onto the drying rack, TK stood back and took the time to admire Carlos, who was oblivious as he wiped down the table. The bruises were gone, the cuts were healing, and Carlos had made it through. The nightmares, as well as the anxiety and panic attacks, would likely remain for some time, but were on the decline.

“I was thinking about adding another dresser,” Carlos mentioned as they started to get dressed. TK frowned, not thinking that Carlos needed more storage space, and pulled on his jeans. “Not for me, for you, so you could store your stuff.”

“My stuff?” TK asked. He already had a drawer here, as well as a side of the closet, so he didn’t think he needed more.

“I was thinking that, if you wanted, you could start moving some more of your stuff in. I know we talked about moving in together before, and you didn’t want to overwhelm me, not with everything else that was going on.”

“What are you asking me, Carlos Reyes?” TK knew exactly what was happening, already smiling and wondering how many left over boxes he had at his dad’s place.

“I’m asking you to move in with me. Live with me.” Carlos linked their hands together. “They don’t get to take this from me, or stop us from going forward, I don’t want to let them win.” It was a big step, the biggest one yet for them, and TK didn’t need to think before answering.

“Yes,” TK answered. “Yes, I’ll move in with you.”

Three months ago, TK responded to a late night call at his boyfriends apartment, fearing that the man he loved would be gone before they even had a chance. Now, encased in a new apartment, armed with the knowledge that the persons responsible would be brought to justice, TK wanted it all. Judging from the matching megawatt smile Carlos was giving him, there was no doubt there, so TK brought their lips together and savored the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! Thank you all for your comments and kudos!

**Author's Note:**

> Finally getting into the Lone Star fandom. Carlos has always had my interest and I noticed that there were very few stories with him getting hurt. So, here we go. While this story is going to get dark, I don't envision myself writing vivid violence scenes. That said, I do plan on having one chapter feature a flashback with scenes from the attack, so there will be a warning before that point. Leave a comment if you wish :)


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